This
is my first fic so comments would be greatly appreciated. Arigatou.

Disclaimer:
None of the characters in FoR belong to me (*sob* I want Mi-chan). I'm just
using them so that I can write fanfic and procrastinate the rest of my work. Do
not sue me because, at the rate I'm going, I'm never going to get a job anyway.

Her
long purple hair danced in the wind. She looked out her balcony and gazed into
the setting sun. As though trying to remember…

Miasma
Through the looking glass

He
stared out the classroom window as she walked by. The teacher had just given
them a short break, so he had taken to glancing out of the glass panels every
now and then.

He
saw a lone figure in the open. His thoughts wandered slightly. Probably
transiting from one class to another, she walked through the assembly area.
Or maybe she was just having a free period or something.

He
couldn't have cared less about who the girl was, but her purple hair reminded
him of something, a whisper from the past.

She was the only thought on his mind.

The
teacher called back the students' attention and continued with the lesson.

***

As
the bell rang, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder in cool
elegance. A bunch of females swooned at the doorway, which was the norm.

He
walked out without giving the girls a second glance. How annoying they are.

Just
then, the same purple-haired girl he had seen walked by. His eyes followed her
movements. There was something so familiar about her.

A
cool breeze swept through the corridor, sweeping her purple hair off her
shoulders in a gentle caress. He found himself wondering who this girl was.

He
swept his own black hair back into place.

The
unusual suaveness of his gesture caused the girls around him to swoon some
more. This time, aloud.

"Kakoii!"

"Ahh.
He's so gorgeous I could just die."

The
purple-haired one turned around at the high-pitched commotion. As she flipped
her head, her hair bounced up and then fell back to her shoulders with a style
befitting a Vidal Sassoon model. What gorgeous hair, he thought.

As
she saw who the commotion was over, she gave him a mysterious smile and shook
her head. "How typical." She muttered to herself.

He
saw her smile and her lips mutter something inaudible. But he could not see the
rest of her face on account of the dim lighting. That smile. So
familiar…

Oh well, he walked off in the opposite direction.

***

She
smiled at him then walked away.

Why had she smiled?
He reminded her so much of -

She
smiled inwardly thinking of him.

-
Another.

Her
smile faded as her amusement turned to confusion.

She
ran her fingers through her purple hair, as though trying to recall.

The
name of the one he was a reminder of - what was it?

Who
was he?

She
remembered having a dream and the trouble she got into for it.

"Hey!
What's going on?" She herself had awakened from some dream.

"I
should be the one asking you that." He was the one speaking.

She
had awoken to find herself leaning on him, her head rested on his
chest. It was certainly a compromising position, for them both.

"You
said something strange in your sleep." He looked straight at her as she
quickly pulled away. "You said, 'I wish we could be this way forever.' Who were
you talking to?"

She
vaguely recalled being made fun of for days after. But she still could not
recall. His name. His face. That boy reminded her of him,

But why?

***

As
she sat at her dining table, she faced her blonde younger sister. "Hey kid, do
you remember…" She let her voice trail off. No, she wouldn't. She had
been safely uninvolved then, and surely she would have forgotten.

"Nee-chan?"

"Never
mind. It's nothing."

The dream… A boy and a girl… Somewhere…

Had
it been him in her dream? Perhaps it had not, but still, there were
things not known, not understood, and she had…

She
got up.

Her
sister tilted her head quizzically. "Nee-chan?"

"There's
some place I need to go." Her lips spoke the words before her mind realised
what she was doing.

Some place to go…

That dream…

So long ago…

A place…

She remembered…

But what was it…

***

She
walked out of her house, trying to remember. How long had it been since she had
left her past behind? Or had she?

Images
floated in her mind.

A
boy with a plaster on his face.

A
girl with the gift of healing.

There
were others too. Her blonde baby sister. A boy with a Rubik's cube.

And
then there had been him.

Pain
tore through her as she fell to her knees.

Why
doth it hurt me so?

Darkness
suddenly descended upon her.

"NEE-CHAN!!!"
A girl screamed as she ran towards the front door.

***

Somewhere…

Two
children played together. A boy with jet-black hair. And a girl with long
purple tresses.

"I
will always be here." He told her, gazing into her eyes.

They
stared at each other for a while, then started laughing.

They would be together,

Forever…

The
dream… from so long ago…

Broken
as she heard herself called.

"Nee-chan."

She
opened her eyes to find her sister looking down at her.

"Are
you okay?" Her voice was filled with concern.

And
worry. "Kid? What just happened?"

"You
blacked out when you were about to leave. Are you okay?"

"I'm
sorry I made you worry so." She felt bad about making the kid so anxious. I'm
sorry, "Could you leave me alone for awhile?" but I need some time
alone, time to think.

She
sat up on her bed. How did I get up here? She couldn't have carried me up.

As
her blonde sister headed towards the door, she noticed someone standing in a
corner. It was

him.

You know it can't be him. Something at the
back of her head was telling her.

No it can't, but why can't it?
There was something she should have remembered. But she couldn't quite place a
finger on it.

The
blonde girl beckoned for him to leave.

"Oh
yah, nee-chan, he carried you up to your room after you fainted."

She
was slightly confused by the whole incident.

"Oh,
arigatou." She said as he walked out silently.

Why
had he helped her? They were strangers.

…or were they?

***

Who
_was_ he? She asked herself. But a distant memory, like a whisper in
the wind.

Why
do I not remember? His face, his countenance.

******

She
watched as he brushed past her.

No
one knew his name. He was a mystery to all. So why did she feel like she
knew him?

***

She watched as the tear from her eye fell onto the water, disturbing its
smooth surface.

Like a passing breeze, the memory of something swept by her. But as
quickly as it came, it left her mind. And all that remained were tears.

He
walked away. She reminded him so much of another, and yet

But
he knew not, and understood even less.

She peered into the pond, into her own reflection. For a moment, she saw
the stranger with the long black hair join her. Then, his image blurred as he
reached out to touch the face of her reflection.

She stared as the ripples spread out and the water soon regained its
calm surface. Just like someone she knew, except it took more than a person's
touch to create a ripple. Him.

"Mizu kagami" She muttered under her breath. Her head bent over the
pond, she continued to stare at her own reflection.

He had long since gotten up. Standing behind her, he watched as she bent
over and stared at her own reflection.

The water suddenly rippled again.

Why
had he been there? She did not know. But he was always around. And he
was always at the back of her mind.

***

Her
hair was swept away from her face as she stood there.

I'll wait for you…

Forever…

She
looked down at the water she was standing above. The water rippled as someone's
tears, not her own, fell. And then she found herself falling into the water.

She
shut her eyes tightly and then opened them.

She
found herself looking into a pond. In it lay not her own reflection, but that
of a young girl and boy.

She
watched as the boy pushed the girl playfully, then caught her as she fell. She
turned to smile at him, before punching him lightly and then running away. He
got up to go after her, and ran after her. Then as he caught her, a sad look
came over his face as his lips started to move. He had something to tell her.

She
wanted to continue watching them, but found herself reaching her hand out to
touch them. As they disappeared, she closed her eyes.

When
she opened them, she found herself staring at her bedroom ceiling.

And
like a breeze it came to her, a whisper from the past.

There had been…

A promise…

Had
she made it?

Or
had it belonged to someone else?

***

What a strange dream, she thought.

She
was still in her own world when she bumped into someone. Her books fell from
her arms and she scrambled to pick them up.

"Gomenasai."
That voice, so familiar, but…

She
looked up, to see him staring down at her. Wait, no. It wasn't him.
She was getting confused. He bent down and started to pick up a book. Of
course, there was no use. She grabbed her books before he had a chance to help
her. There was just something so eerily familiar about him.

"Sorry,
I should have looked where I was going." She got up and walked off without
letting him say anything else.

***

He
should not have come. But he was already here. Standing in her room, he watched
as she slept. He watched as she tossed and turned uneasily in her sleep. That
day, in school, bumping into her, hearing her voice. He had to see her.

He
could not bear to see her in such pain.

He
touched her cheek lightly before he even realised what he was doing. At which
point, he quickly withdrew his hand. He turned to leave, but stopped when he
saw what had happened.

She
had stopped tossing and turning when he had touched her, but now, tears flowed
down her cheek.

She
reminded him so much of her. He finally turned to leave.

***

Under
a tree the colour of silver,

He
hugged her playfully. She smiled inwardly. For his touch had always brought her
comfort.

And
then, he was suddenly struck with a premonition.

No.

Something was going to happen.

"I
wish we could be this way forever." She had previously told him that her
parents planned to leave.

"Things
can never be as they," he paused, "were"

She
got a shock at the seriousness of his voice, and broke away from his arms. What
was once the comfort of being held suddenly became unbearable. It was the pain
of holding on to something you knew you could not have. She couldn't understand
what he was saying, but it made her fear, though for what, she knew not. She
turned to leave. He grabbed her hand. She pulled it back, away from his grasp.
He pulled her close to him, then whispered in her ear as he released her hand.

"But
I will wait for you." It was a promise. One, that she knew, he would not break.
But it mattered not. She knew she could not return.

As
she ran into the distance, she felt his beautiful blue eyes watching her, with
tears flowing from them. As she ran, she heard the wind carry a voice, his
voice.

"Forever…"

She
turned to watch his image fade away, with the sunset.

She
looked up into the dark sky and watched as waves spread out through the black
velvet.

Why did I run? What did I fear? Change? Fear? Pain?

She
felt the wind sweep her away, as she became nothing, one with the
night.

She
awoke to find herself kneeling at her bedside, hands grasped on something which
had not been there before.

A
silver branch lay in her hand.

***

I waited for you

But you never came

******

Why
is it that I cannot remember his face? That the closest image I see of him
is that of a stranger. Is that why I find myself falling?

Mizu Kagami. Why?

Words without meaning that race through my mind…

Why? Emotions I don't understand…

For them all…

***

She
ran her fingers through her hair. It was long once before… A voice in
her head told her.

Long?

But you cut it… Do you remember why? The
voice sounded so much like her own. What did she mean?

Why?

She
didn't want to think about it.

She
stared at a knife lying on her table. She picked it up and examined it, then
was stabbed by a scene from so long ago:

How could he leave me? Doesn't he know?

She
picked up the knife and unsheathed it. She grabbed her waist-length hair and
drew the knife straight across it. The soft purple strands fell to the ground.

Like
the confusion she was feeling, the wind swept through her backyard. The gust
picked up the purple mass and they danced in the air as they were carried away.

A
lady walked in and started screaming.

***

She
found herself getting up, as though in a miasma.

She
felt herself getting up from her bed and walking, no, it was almost as though
she was floating. The quality of it all was so dream-like. Compelled to do so,
she walked out the door and drifted down a path towards some place.

It
all seemed so familiar. Too familiar.

Had
she walked down this path before? Suddenly, she saw the ghost of a girl run
past her. A child with long hair. Long purple hair. And green eyes.

She
turned her head to stare, but the ghost was gone. No, it isn't a ghost. It
is, was

Her
body continued to move without her conscious command. She was being drawn
somewhere, but where?

A path so familiar…

That girl was me…

Running…

Like
a dream, she found herself somewhere. In the distance, she saw someone standing
under

She
gasped.

A silver tree.

A
man with long black hair. No, she blinked. And saw the ghost of a young
boy, as he turned around, with blue eyes. Under the moonlight, there was a
haunting reality about everything.

I must be dreaming.

They
stared into each other's eyes for a moment, before

She
suddenly found it too unbearable. And like the child, she turned to run.

As
she turned to run, she felt the wind sweep through her hair. It blew her hair
into her face.

The
wind swept her waist length hair about wildly as she ran through the
streets, returning to shut her eyes tightly to this strange phantasm.

When
she finally opened her eyes, she was lying in her bed. She got up and caught an
image in the mirror. It should have been her, but in the mirror, a child with
waist length purple tresses stared intently at her.

The
sadness in the child's eyes struck her painfully as the image returned to her
own. As she felt the pain that had remained within her ever since

***

He
rubbed his eyes, then leaned on the silver bark. As he tried to recall what had
just happened.

She had come.

Or had she?

He
tried to remember:

A
beautiful purple, shoulder-length-haired lady had appeared. He had seen her but
when he looked into her eyes - Those green eyes. He recalled their
beauty wistfully. - He had seen her.

Her.

Her
face echoed in his mind.

The
face of a child with waist-length purple hair and green eyes.

Had
he really seen her?

It
all seemed so unreal.

No, it cannot be.

He
tried to put the miasma out of his mind as he walked away from the tree.

******

He
couldn't stop thinking about her. His head was in a mess. And he found
himself thinking about the other purple-haired girl as well. The one that he
had seen yesterday in that strange miasma of his.

Had
he just been seeing things? Or had he actually seen her and thought of her?

He
sighed.

He
wanted to speak to her, but decided against it. He had long put away his
emotions. And he would only reverse that for one person. He could only find the
strength to do so for one person. Her. If only because he had made her a
promise.

He
walked away.

***

The
purple-haired child held her hand out, beckoning her to Come.

They
stared into each other's eyes. Green poring into green. Then the child turned
to run.

Was
she real?

It
was all so surreal. She felt like she was floating underwater, staring at the
girl. As the girl ran, she felt like the water bubble surrounding her had
broken and released its contents. Free from its confines, she ran after the
girl. Somehow, she knew.

Deep
within her heart, she knew, that the child would lead her to an answer.

As
in her miasma, she ran through the same streets, the same paths. Finally, she
found herself in the midst of a forest, by a small hill. On the hill was a tree
with -

This is the place.

She
heard his voice like the murmur of the wind.

I will wait for you…

Forever…

- A
tree with silver bark.

She
walked up to the tree and touched the bark, running her hand over its smooth
silver. So unsure was she of the whole event's reality.

He
had come to wait for her, not that she would ever come. But instead of reaching
his destination, someone else had done so before him. He watched the
purple-haired child run her fingers over the smooth bark of, he thought
angrily, her tree. That tree was his proof that she had, in fact,
existed. But, much to his own disgust, he found himself wondering what _her_
caress might fell like. Having her fingers run over his cheek, as hers
once had.

She
turned to find him staring at her. She was shocked, but instead found herself
staring right back into his eyes.

Blue
into green.

He
felt himself so drawn to her. But, this is not how it should be. He
could no longer bare the pain of gazing at what he could not have. He turned to
run from her.

***

Why
was he so drawn to her? She was a stranger. But she reminded him so much of
her.

Why?

***

Who
was he? Was he the one who had made the promise? But, was the girl even her?
She could not remember a time when she had such long hair. In fact, she did not
even have any photos of herself as a young child.

She
stared at the mirror, trying to imagine herself with hair to her waist. The
girl appeared once again, staring straight back at her through the looking
glass, mouthing the words: help me.

And
then, she was gone.

***

He
sat in his room, unable to get her out of his mind.

He
had known that she would never return, so why had he waited?

The
voice of a young boy whispered to him, "Because I, no, we, promised her."

That binding promise. Had he made a mistake in
committing himself to those meaningless words?

He
sighed.

***

A
young boy suddenly hugged the girl, then was torn apart by the feeling he had.
One of intense sadness, and ominous premonition. He had said goodbye.

Goodbye.
Things can never be as they were. He had known then that no thing could come to
a good end. Not with him.

But
he had given himself one last chance, in a girl with long purple hair. He had
made her a promise. And he would keep it, he would learn to live again,

if only she would return…

I will always be here…

He
opened his eyes, then walked into the next room to pick up his brush. Even if
she was not her, he had to paint her. Some how, she had returned
to him, even if not in her true form. He could never be as he was until she
truly returned, but till then, he decided

He
began to paint her.

He
began to paint them both.

******

"Why
have I no pictures of myself as a child?"

"Because,
there came a day when you screamed and cut off your long hair."

The
memory returned to her. So it had been her.

"You
seemed haunted by it, so we decided that it was best you not remember."

So
it had been real. Everything she had dreamed of. Or were they more than
dreams?

***

She
had asked around and found out his address, but she did not know his name yet.
It was so strange.

She
knocked on his door, then turned the knob. Finding the apartment unlocked, she
let herself in.

What
a lovely apartment. She thought. The apartment had only a few pieces of
furniture and no fancies, but there was an artistic quality that lay in its
sparseness.

She
walked into the first room she saw. She could not have been thinking logically,
for this was not something she would have done before. But confusion leads
people to do strange things.

She
walked through a bedroom. There were two closed doors within. She headed to the
door at the opposite end of the room, instead of the side one.

As
she opened the door, she was astounded by what lay there. Paintings.
Sculptures. Art materials were lying in an artistic mess, if there was such a
thing, around the room.

And
then the content of the painting caught her eye. At first, it had just seemed
like a beautiful piece of art. But it was more than that to her. A picture of a
beautiful silver tree under the light of the moon. It was done completely in
dark shades of black and blue, all except for the silver of the tree, the white
of the moon, and the startling blue eyes of the child who stood under it. A
sad, dark silhouette whose blue eyes held a certain deep regret. It had a
haunting, yet beautiful quality to it.

He must be the one I dream of. For who else could it be?

A
sculpture of a girl with long waist length hair. She was just a child, but the
way he had sculpted her, she seemed like a long-lost lover. Eyes that might
have belonged to

And
then there was the painting. She had found it as she carefully stepped into the
deepest end of the room.

A
painting of a girl looking into the water, her hand raised out, having just
touched its surface. The water rippled faintly, but within it held the distinct
image of a child. The former had shoulder-length purple hair. The latter,
waist-length purple tresses. Both the exact same shade of purple. Both with
identical eyes. Intense green eyes which held a mystery to them. What was
the girl feeling? would be the question that struck any viewer's mind.

But
she already knew. After all, she was that girl. Are you still waiting? But
why?

He
had given her his word. Was this artist with the long black hair the child who
had made her that promise?

Mirror of water

Mizu Kagami

***

He
stared at her. What was she doing here? He was not ready for her.

As
she turned around, their eyes met, and they suddenly recognised each other.

"I
never knew your name." She whispered softly, as though afraid that if she spoke
too loudly, this fragile image might break.

"Are
you real? Are you really her?" He reached his hand up to touch her
cheek, as though not believing that she was really in front of him.

And
then as she caught sight of his wrist, she realised who he was.

The whole time…

All the allusions…

She had never noticed…

Water's mirror

The
scar on his wrist. So many years ago.

No
one else knew. Only her.

It
had been blurred in her memory, by her tears, by her sadness, but she
remembered it only too clearly now.

He
stood by the river with her.

"I've
had enough." He decided.

He
picked up the knife and made the cut across his wrist.

She
could not believe what was happening. She had never thought it would end this
way.

He
had looked at her and said something which she had previously forgotten,
"Things can never be as they were."

And
to the wind he had whispered, something which she had not understood before,
"I'm sorry Artemis."

He
had let himself fall into the river. And all she had done was watch. In spite
of how she had felt, even then.

Perhaps
that was why she had not known him when they met. She had tried to push all the
hurt and pain out of her consciousness, and along with it had gone everything
about him.

But
she remembered now.

"Mikagami."

She
took his hand in her own, afraid to let go of him again.

"It
was you. All along, it was you, and I never knew." He stared at the
purple-haired beauty before him. Had he been so obsessed with the goddess of
his childhood that he had not even seen her when they met? She could not have
been expected to know him. He had changed, too much.

"Do
you even know who I am?"

"You
are the angel from my childhood."

"My
name is Kirisawa." She deigned to continue. "Or did you forget after" she
fingered his scar.

"Kirisawa."
He repeated the name. There was something so painful about recalling that name.

The scar.

It had been so long ago.

What exactly had happened?

He tried to remember.

"Who
are you?" He recalled nothing.

She
just sighed.

"And
why did you call me Mikagami?"

She
looked at him. He was most certainly the same person she had known before. Yet
he was different as well.

So
he did not remember. "Oh, nothing."

"No.
It is not _nothing_. Who is he?" He asked suspiciously.

Since he does not recall, perhaps it would be better to allow things to
remain. "He's no-one."

"No.
I heard the tone in your voice. You love him, don't you?"

His
accusation pierced right through her heart. Hearing his voice blaming her hurt
so much. She shivered and put her arms around herself in an attempt to keep
herself calm. But she could not, did not know how to answer his question.

"I
don't know."

He
watched as she walked away.

***

As
she had walked out of his apartment, she felt a torrent of emotions sweep over
her.

She
felt her mind go blank as she fell to the ground.

He
heard a crash outside his apartment. When he went to investigate, he saw her
lying there.

She
had fainted.

******

He
carried her in, then lay her on his bed. He walked away, unsure of what to do.
Then he walked back towards her.

Lying
on his bed, she looked like an angel, his angel.

The
love and passion he had felt for her rushed through him and he suddenly felt an
urge to do something.

***

He
looked at the image he had painted.

A
girl his own age with long purple hair that fell to her waist was suspended in
the air. She lay on a divan of wind, her hair floating in its mysterious power.
Like a Greek goddess, she wore a dress of white linen. She looked like an angel
in her innocence and beauty, but like a goddess in her allure and aura. On her arm
was a rather strange accessory.

He
examined it closely. Why did I paint that in?

A
white band around her wrist with a connected ring on the figure's index finger.
An orb lay within. An orb with the character of wind engraved on it.

Wind.
Her element. Her throne.

Wind.
Her child:

Fuuko.

What
were these thoughts rushing into his mind. Without cause, without reason.

He
turned away. And caught sight of another painting

Of
his angel looking into the water. Staring at the reflection of herself, the
reflection that was a child. Staring at her self in a mirror.

A mirror of water

Mizu Kagami

Mikagami.

And
he realised, that he did

Remember.

I am Mikagami Tokiya… I am myself

And the child of wind, my angel, Kirisawa Fuuko has returned to me

******

She
awoke, to find herself laid on his bed. What had happened? Her memory
was blurred. She vaguely recalled herself falling. She must have fainted.

She
sat up in the middle of the bed and was immediately shocked. Right beside her
right arm lay a silver branch, but all around her, red roses were scattered on
the bed. She got up, and saw a trail of roses leading into his studio. She got
up and walked towards it, stopping right in front of the closed door.

She
hesitated. She had no idea what she might be getting herself into. She entered
the door and caught sight of a painting unfamiliar to her since she had last
stepped into his studio.

It
was herself, but with waist-length hair. The exquisiteness of a goddess and
splendour of an angel fused into one. On her wrist

She
caught her breath, for on her wrist was

The fuujin.

She
had not worn it ever since he had left her.

She
felt arms wrap around her from the back. Like so long ago…

"I never knew…"

His
lips brushed past her ear as her whispered into it.

"Fuuko…"

He
remembered. And so did she. And she feared, for the last time he had held her
as such, it was to leave her.

But
this time it was different.

"You returned to me…"

Actually, I did not. She could not help but
think.

"I waited… As I promised…
I would have waited… Forever"

Tears
flowed down her cheek as long buried emotions came rushing to the surface,
threatening to erupt from her. "Tokiya." She had never called him that before,
but it felt right.

She
turned around.

And
their eyes met again. His arms still around her, they were both plunged into
the past as green met blue. Two lonely children on a hill, staring at each
other.

And
this time, he could not keep it hidden within himself. He pulled her closer to
him to give her a kiss that had come ten years too late.

She
pulled away from the touch of his lips to tell him.

"I
did not mean to return. It was chance." He had to know this. She had to tell
him that she had not come back for him. She loved him, but could he accept that
it was not her love that had brought her back, but the winds of chance.

He
stared at her. "You did not come back for me."

"No,
but…" Could she tell him? She had to.

"I

love

you…

I always have…"

He
pulled her back towards him. As he realised the truth of what he had said so
long ago to her.

"Things cannot be as they were…

They must be as they are…"

He
kissed her cheek. He would no longer live in the past. He would live for the
present, but more than that, for her.

"Then… now… forever…

I love you…"

As
she heard those words, she knew it was meant to be -

She
lifted both her hands and he felt her soft caress on his cheeks, as she drew
him towards her, as they finally poured ten years of longing into that kiss.

-
Forever.

Author's
note:

First
of all, Artemis is a Greek goddess linked to chaste love. I was going to use
Aphrodite, but she's way too wily for the child I wanted Fuuko to be. Artemis
is also goddess of the hunt and sometimes linked to the moon as well. My
assumption is that Mikagami is the kind of person who is well read in pretty
much everything, and that he finds his childhood love most like the goddess
Artemis.

This
is slightly ooc, in the sense that I don't think Fuuko would ordinarily faint
at every other thing, but as I said, confusion makes people do strange things.
And Fuuko is very confused. And I don't really know if Mikagami would be
able to paint, but he is a rather melancholic character and in my opinion,
melancholics make the best artists. (Probably why they have such tragic ends.)

Oh,
and I know the last bit is a bit sappy, but I couldn't think of a way to
resolve their love for each other. And I hope you readers understood the story,
cos some of my friends got kind of confused, especially since I don't use their
names until the last quarter of the story, and there are no distinctions
between what is real and what is just a phantasm.

Last
but not least, thanks Ning, for proofreading it.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.